I'm down to 8 cigarettes a day. This is down from anywhere between a pack and two, depending on the day and what I was doing. As I have absolutely no will-power and the self-control of a junkie in thailand, 8 is a pretty big fucking step. The plan is to get to 8 not being a daily fucking struggle, then start stepping down. So far, these are the hardest parts:

being bored: holy CRAP, that's just a killer. how the hell do nonsmokers pass the time when there's nothing else happening to pass the time? i can't just whip out a book and start reading. being bored is AWFUL. i've measured out the downtime of my past twelve years in 6 minute man-country intervals. without that luxury i'm not only bored, but i'm fighting off a nic-fit, neither of which are condusive to speeding up the clock. i hate being bored. hate, hate, hate.

writing: this, too. i'm willing to concede much of this is simply habit, but getting unstuck or working something through always goes easier with a handful of cigarettes. now i have to think about getting unstuck AND not smoking at the same time. jesus, what a whining little baby i am.

gum OD: the trick to the nicotine gum is to not chomp it like it's bubblegum. you chew it until it starts to, err, buzz, then tuck it like chewing tobacco inbetween your teeth and gums, repeating as needed. chewing it like bubblegum results in all 4mg of nicotine being dumped into your mouth all at once. sometimes, this tastes real good. sometimes, this tastes like someone's shoved a salty tennis ball in the back of your throat and you wanna sorta barf for an hour or so.

wanting to kill everyone ever all the time with my bare hands: self-explanatory.

apparently, i can be a little cranky: and what's worse is i'm aware of it. so i hear myself saying things like, oh, i don't know, "I hate you. I hate you so much I want to smash all of your teeth out with the heel of my shoe, one at a time, and mail them to your mom. And then I'd write, in your blood, THIS IS BECAUSE YOUR DIPSHIT BARISTA SON DIDN'T GIVE ME MY GODDAMN REFILL on the envelopes you jackass bastard fuck," and i'll KNOW that i'm saying it, and i'll hear how it sounds, and i don't really MEAN to say it but, well, okay, i say it anyway. then feel bad about it and put maybe two bucks in the tip jar instead of one.

xtop makes fun of me: jerk.

EDIT: An example of the above, re: hippy space pipe: after smoking sanders' hookah, i got one of my own. it's excessively DUNE, all things considered. the waterpipe tobacco has no preservatives or chemicals, and is, in fact, just dried and ground up tobacco mixed with molasses and usually something else to flavor it. it goes stale fast so it's kept in little jars in the fridge. i have apricot, mint, and a coffee one that tastes like coffee and chocolate. i wish there was a cinnamon flavor. it burns clean, filtered through a lot of water, and smokes so smoothly you don't notice you're smoking until you exhale. kel even pulls on it from time to time. it also tastes remarkably good, and smoking a cigarette afterwards is a bit like drinking a can of mesquite TAB. While swapping one vice for another very similar vice ain't all that, uh, smart, the hookah helps pad out the hours at night somewhat. It appeals to the OCD part of me that likes all the gear that goes along with smoking; this thing has tubes and valves and pokers and tongs and foil and charcoal and all that. pretty baroque comparatively. so i like setting it up, i like the ritual that goes along with smoking it. also, a little pinch of tobacco will burn for about 45 minutes. and it'll keep me from smoking cigarettes for a good long while afterwards. Xtop likes to mock me because of it.